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"
Not
I
?
"
Pilar
asked
him
and
picked
some
dust
up
from
the
fire
and
blew
it
off
the
palm
of
her
hand
.
"
I
cannot
tell
thee
either
?
"
"
No
.
With
all
wizardry
,
gypsy
and
all
,
thou
canst
not
tell
me
either
.
"
"
Because
thou
art
a
miracle
of
deafness
,
"
Pilar
said
,
her
big
face
harsh
and
broad
in
the
candlelight
.
"
It
is
not
that
thou
art
stupid
.
Thou
art
simply
deaf
.
One
who
is
deaf
cannot
hear
music
.
Neither
can
he
hear
the
radio
.
So
he
might
say
,
never
having
heard
them
,
that
such
things
do
not
exist
.
Qué
va
,
Inglés
.
I
saw
the
death
of
that
one
with
the
rare
name
in
his
face
as
though
it
were
burned
there
with
a
branding
iron
.
"
"
You
did
not
,
"
Robert
Jordan
insisted
.
"
You
saw
fear
and
apprehension
.
The
fear
was
made
by
what
he
had
been
through
.
The
apprehension
was
for
the
possibility
of
evil
he
imagined
.
"
"
Qué
va
,
"
Pilar
said
.
"
I
saw
death
there
as
plainly
as
though
it
were
sitting
on
his
shoulder
.
And
what
is
more
he
smelt
of
death
.
"
"
He
smelt
of
death
,
"
Robert
Jordan
jeered
.
"
Of
fear
maybe
.
There
is
a
smell
to
fear
.
"
"
De
la
muerte
,
"
Pilar
said
.
"
Listen
.
When
Blanquet
,
who
was
the
greatest
peon
de
brega
who
ever
lived
,
worked
under
the
orders
of
Granero
he
told
me
that
on
the
day
of
Manolo
Granero
’
s
death
,
when
they
stopped
in
the
chapel
on
the
way
to
the
ring
,
the
odor
of
death
was
so
strong
on
Manolo
that
it
almost
made
Blanquet
sick
.
And
he
had
been
with
Manolo
when
he
had
bathed
and
dressed
at
the
hotel
before
setting
out
for
the
ring
.
The
odor
was
not
present
in
the
motorcar
when
they
had
sat
packed
tight
together
riding
to
the
bull
ring
.
Nor
was
it
distinguishable
to
any
one
else
but
Juan
Luis
de
la
Rosa
in
the
chapel
.
Neither
Marcial
nor
Chicuelo
smelled
it
neither
then
nor
when
the
four
of
them
lined
up
for
the
paseo
.
But
Juan
Luis
was
dead
white
,
Blanquet
told
me
,
and
he
,
Blanquet
,
spoke
to
him
saying
,
‘
Thou
also
?
’
"
‘
So
that
I
cannot
breathe
,
’
Juan
Luis
said
to
him
.
‘
And
from
thy
matador
.
’
"
‘
Pues
nada
,
’
Blanquet
said
.
‘
There
is
nothing
to
do
.
Let
us
hope
we
are
mistaken
.
’
"
‘
And
the
others
?
’
Juan
Luis
asked
Blanquet
.
